Double Bond

Chapter Four

“What’s UNARATO like?” They were in the Aston Martin, which was purring its way along the London streets. The sight of the car had excited Rosie, who’d spent five minutes checking it over. James would have been happy to meet someone so enthusiastic about cars if he hadn’t been so worried that she would blow up inside it. He glanced at her. She was waiting for an answer, her eyes fixed on his face, probing. They reminded him of Emma’s eyes: they were the same colour, the same shape, and had the same intensity behind their gazes.

The pain hit him from nowhere. He switched his gaze back to the road, breathing heavily. It wouldn’t do him any good to lose it; he’d end up crashing the car. But he’d never forget the feeling as he’d watched, helplessly, as the light had died in those brilliant eyes.

“It’ll be nothing like what you’re expecting,” he finally answered, somehow managing to keep his voice under control.

“Are you okay?” She was sharp, he’d give her that. He paused a minute, considering his answer.

“You remind me of someone.” Rosie snorted softly.

“Can’t think who I’d remind you of.”

James rested his eyes on her face for a few seconds. She’d sounded reflective, and her face was thoughtful, as if she was thinking about her past or, maybe, about the bomb that was inside her. James wondered what having a bomb inside you did to a person. Changed you, probably, and possibly made you very self-conscious. It seemed to have made Rosie very self-contained, but maybe she had always been like that.

A red light stopped him, and James decided it was time to act. The easiest way to get Rosie inside MI6 was if she was unconscious, and they were almost there. He dug in the pocket of the driver’s door, pulling out a syringe and slipping it into his left arm. He looked at Rosie. She was gazing at something happening on the street, so he stabbed the syringe into her right forearm, pushing down on the plunger. Her head whipped round, first gazing with horror at the syringe in her arm, and then staring accusingly into James’ face.

“Oh no,” she murmured, before sliding down in the chair, her head lolling on one side.

The traffic light was still on red, and Bond was glad of this. He could barely see through the tears in his eyes, because the way the hope had died in Rosie’s eyes had been far too similar to the way the light had left Emma’s.

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“2000 pounds?” A quiet rage filled M’s voice when he intercepted James in Moneypenny’s office. Tanner and Eve were both there, staring at the sleeping figure in James’ arms. Bond faced M.

“She’d better have good information, 007,” M snarled, and James treated him to an indolent smirk.

“She’s the bomb, Sir.” A dead silence greeted these words. Eve was smiling at him, enjoying the triumph he had gained over Mallory.

“Get her down to the medical bay,” barked M. “I want her scanned immediately!”

****************

Dr Jones pulled off the face mask, and began washing the blood off his latex gloves.

“Interesting job, this,” he said. “She was wearing make-up over the scar, quite an expensive brand, exactly matching her skin tone. Scar itself is a right mess. Whoever sewed her up didn’t make a very good job of it, she’s lucky she didn’t catch an infection. Bomb’s in her stomach, looks like it’s fused to her stomach lining. Q’s looked at it, and taken some pictures. Says he’ll have to study them, he’s never seen anything like it before.” Dr Jones shook his head slightly. “No experience,” he sighed.